


For My Eternal Love

by scriptophobia



Series: For My Eternal Love [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Like, M/M, One-Sided Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Stalking, Unrequited Love, i feel like im missing tags so lemme know if i am, rated teen because, remus level creepy, roman is creepy, roman is so creepy, someone arrest him, ya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriptophobia/pseuds/scriptophobia
Summary: Virgil’s back door is unlocked. It’s always unlocked. He’s always so trusting, almost a little naive. Something that Roman has always admired, loved about him.





	For My Eternal Love

**Author's Note:**

> alright folks, buckle up and get ready for a wild ride. i wrote this story for my creative writing class in high school and tbh i was really proud of it, so i ~adapted it~ to fit sanders sides!! also yes shes short but i had a word limit for my assignment ok dont bully me  
alrighty enjoy roman being a creepy bastard man  
(also hit up my tumblr heavenly-roman i need friends in this fandom k bye love u)

Virgil’s back door is unlocked. It’s always unlocked. He’s always so trusting, almost a little naive. Something that Roman has always admired, loved about him. Roman slips through the sliding glass door into his living room. His steps creak on the hardwood floor and he examines the room. Same as always. The succulents on the edge of Virgil’s television stand are standing perky, green as ever. His fingertips graze the television screen, the static still buzzing against his skin. He moves to the couch, if he breathes deeply enough he can smell the cologne Roman had bought for him months ago. It’s calming. 

The tiles on the bathroom wall are still stained from Virgil’s hair dye incident. Roman migrates into the shower, smelling things as he goes. That’s his favourite part- smelling. He holds the purple loofah up to his nose, inhaling the scent of his body wash. He makes a mental note to buy the same one. His razor is fresh, blades sharp and unrusted. His fingers dance atop the blades, violent thoughts swimming in his mind. He almost collects the hair swimming in the drain, but refrains, waits for the bedroom.

The stairs groan under him, as they always have. Familiar paintings hang on the wall. He stops. Adjusts one. Keeps moving. The bedroom is locked- the only security Virgil has the common sense to have installed - it seems growing up with snooping brothers has paid off. But Virgil, sweet, innocent Virgil, always keeps an extra key in the flower pot beside his door. A cliche of sorts. The key fits perfectly in the door, and Roman pushes it open with ease.

There are white Christmas lights draped across his bed frame. A new addition, one that Roman doesn’t particularly care for. He unplugs them, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. Better. His fingers run across the old mahogany of Virgil’s dresser and stop above the third column, trailing down to the last row. He rips it open, smiling at the contents. Letters. Gifts. Polaroids. He rifles through the things, concert tickets and Valentine’s cards flying onto the ground. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small box and a note. Carefully, he places the duo into the open drawer for his love to find. For my eternal love, the note says. 

Virgil’s closet is clean, organized by colour, season. Cozy, warm toned sweaters hang limply, while skimpy tank tops - simultaneously Roman’s favourite and least favourite items - are grouped together on the other side of the closet. His spring coats are separated from the bunch, being put to use more so during these upcoming warmer months. Perfect. These will smell most like him. He grabs one of his oversized windbreakers and slips it on. It’s a little too tight on him - it’s unable to zip - but he makes do. He smiles, the first genuine smile for the night. He finally feels close to his sunshine again.

The younger man’s vanity is cluttered, the only item that seems out of place. He must’ve left in a rush this morning. Roman flicks on the mirror lights, squinting at the sudden brightness. His hair brush is the first thing he spots - as well as the hair collected amongst the bristles. He carefully plucks the strands from the brush and rolls them into a clump to stick in his pocket. It was brown, now - no longer the vibrant purple he has in his collection. He considers putting on some of his lighter lipstick as an opportunity to touch his lips again, but decides against it. He’ll just have to work up to kissing him once more.

Virgil’s bed is the final thing he visits. Roman is almost asleep when he hears the door open. With the panic mirroring the object of his affection, he flicks off the vanity light and jumps out the window - a practiced movement - grabbing onto a branch and scrambling down the closest tree outside of his bedroom.

Virgil later discovers that one of his windbreakers is missing - weird, he must’ve misplaced it.

**Author's Note:**

> please delete my kneecaps if u see a typo (virgils charcater was originally a girl so srsly idk if i got all the shes and hers lemme know)  
also i'll cry happy tears for kudos and comments just sayin  
tumblr is heavenly-roman!!!! :)  
[ if you liked this, consider buying me a coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/lextriestowrite)


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